


Reverence

by gealach



Category: Dark Wolverine (Comics), Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Anal Sex, Asexual Character, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Edgeplay, Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Threesome, ace!Daken is the hill I will die on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 04:05:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17175545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gealach/pseuds/gealach
Summary: Bobby doesn’t know what to expect when Johnny invites him home to introduce him to his partner. But he’ll remember their meeting for a long time.





	Reverence

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays! Enjoy the treat ;)

Bobby had to admit that he was a bit nervous.

It just seemed too good to be true. He’d started to think that he’d never find someone, always finding something wrong in every guy he met. He’d started to think that there was something wrong with _him_ , that he’d always been like this; that his bad luck with women hadn’t been because he was lying to himself about his preferences, but simply because he was fundamentally unlikable, only good to be the funny jokester to hang out with – nothing more; and that this was confirming itself to be true now that he knew that he preferred men.

He’d started to think that there was no hope.

And then – and then. Thanks to Rogue, he’d met Johnny. Of course he already knew Johnny, but it hadn’t occurred to him to try anything until Rogue had bodily dragged him in front of Bobby and said they had more in common than they thought.

Hell of a conversation starter.

It turned out that Johnny was bi. Johnny was fun and kind and they played off of each other easily, like Bobby had never managed to with anyone, really. They ended out texting endlessly – a constant string of messages that they even sent while on mission – and then decided to try a date.

Then another one, and another after that.

They were both cautious. It seemed too good to be true, and Johnny seemed to hold off a little – not so much to prompt Bobby to call everything off, but enough to put him on the same wavelength, give Johnny space. He sensed there was something there, something good between them, even if Johnny seemed to be putting him at arm’s length sometimes.

It was on the third date that the other shoe dropped. They’d had fun, flying together – well, Bobby had been sliding – and then, when Johnny had dropped him off at the school, they’d been joking like they did and then the mood had shifted. Johnny’s gaze had dropped to Bobby’s mouth, and Bobby had licked his lips, suddenly nervous, and the next thing he knew they were kissing, propped up against the wall like horny teenagers. Johnny was warm, pleasantly so, a buzzing steam coming off of them where they touched – Bobby’s hands on Johnny’s arms, Johnny’s hands on Bobby’s neck, on his cheek.

Then Johnny had broken the kiss, tilted his head to press his forehead against Bobby’s.

“Sorry,” he’d murmured. Bobby had gabbled something, still lost in the taste of Johnny’s mouth. “I need to tell you something. Please don’t freak out.”

It turned out that Johnny wasn’t single. Bobby had almost called it off there and then, shocked that the man would betray his partner and more than a bit enraged that he’d use Bobby to do so – but something in Johnny’s eyes had stopped him.

And Johnny had told him that he had a sort-of open relationship, meaning he was free to pursue another person if he liked, and to bring said person home if this person felt up to it.

Bobby had stopped him there. “You’re proposing what, a threesome?” He wasn’t sure he _was_ up to it. Life had been a constant rediscovery ever since he’d come out, with a lot of experimenting – but he hadn’t ticked that box yet. And, most importantly – he was looking for _someone_. He didn’t want to be a third wheel for whatever games Johnny and his partner played. “I’d thought -” He’d broken off, thankfully, but he hadn’t managed to stop the grimace forming on his face. He’d thought they were good for each other, and Johnny had just been hunting for a spicy night-stand instead. There was nothing inherently wrong with that, but Bobby would have liked to get the memo earlier.

“God, no!” Johnny had vigorously shaken his head – looked mortified, too. “No threesomes, _ever_. And I do like you a lot, Bobby. I mean... romantically, if we want to use that word so soon.” He’d rubbed his neck, going a bit red in the face – his long eyelashes lowering almost demurely. It was a lovely look on him. “It’s not about sex, I mean, not just about that.” He’d bit his lower lip.

Bobby had mulled that over. Johnny seemed earnest – ready to pursue a relationship, at least, like Bobby was. It was just this variable that confounded Bobby: did Johnny want something like a poli relationship? But he categorically denied that any sex with all three of them would take place – and yet he wanted to bring Bobby home, presumably to his partner.

“I’m a bit lost here, Johnny,” he’d ended up murmuring.

Johnny had sighed. “I’m _rubbish_ at this. This is all new, see, you’re the first – huh, the first I trusted enough to bring this up.”

While that filled Bobby with warm fuzzy feelings – an alarming amount of butterflies took residence in his stomach – it didn’t explain anything. “Thank you. Could you elaborate a little bit more?” He’d gently caressed Johnny’s arm, hoping to be reassuring and, at the same time, to urge him to speak.

Johnny had leant into the touch, his eyelids lowered in clear pleasure – almost melting into Bobby’s arms. “We’re looking for someone,” he’d begun, slow and careful, “whom I can have a relationship with. But I want this person to like my partner too. I want all three of us to work together – it doesn’t seem right that only I get to have two people who love me.” He’d looked to the side at that, and then back up at Bobby, with some trepidation. “Sorry to spring this on you. I get we aren’t on an L-word level yet.” That word had, in fact, almost made Bobby’s heart stop. No, they weren’t there. But he’d have liked that. “I don’t want to scare you off, but this is a deal-breaker.” Johnny had grimaced. “I get it if you don’t want a third person in this relationship. We can stay friends, no hard feelings.”

He couldn’t lie, it was a bit unusual; not what he’d thought would come of his dates with Johnny. But he liked him, very much so, and anyone who Johnny loved couldn’t be that bad, right? He could try it out, at least. Get to know the mysterious partner, see if they worked too.

Which was how Bobby got here: on the porch of a detached house at the outskirts of New Work, somewhere he’d have never pictured Johnny. The little garden was well-kept, the outside warm and welcoming. It was like a quiet refuge from the city and their hectic lifestyles; Bobby could see the appeal.

Johnny opened the door with a radiant smile that took the breath out of Bobby. He seemed happy, gleeful really; so utterly _glad_ that Bobby had arrived. “You’re here!” he exclaimed, pleased, and beckoned him inside. “Come in, come in. Dinner’s ready!”

“I brought wine.” Bobby held up the wrapped up bottle Jean had helped him choose.

Jean had been great. She’d told him to keep an open mind, have fun, and text her if he wanted an out. The latter, he didn’t think he’d need, but one could never know. If it turned out to be an awkward affair – if he didn’t click with Johnny’s partner – perhaps it would be best to have an excuse, so that he wouldn’t hurt Johnny’s feelings. He did want to keep being friends, if this didn’t work out. He adored Johnny; he should have hung out with him more, and earlier in life.

“Oh, he’ll love it!” Johnny beamed at him, and then he linked their fingers together, pulling him down a corridor. “So, um, you actually know each other already,” he said, ducking his head a bit.

 _Huh._ Who could it be? There weren’t _that_ many gay superheroes, that Bobby knew about. “Can you give me some hint?”

“We didn’t hit it off at first,” said a deep, pleasant voice from ahead. Bobby peered as they entered a big open space, with a candle-lit, elegantly set table a bit to the side of the room – he knew that voice. He’d fought against its owner; made up some time later, at Laura’s request.

He hadn’t known what to expect of this night, but it wasn’t for Logan’s son to appear from behind the counter and set a mouth-watering dish on the table. Roastbeef? It smelt divine.

Set on the table. By Daken. Who was wearing an _apron_.

Johnny’s partner was _Daken?_

There was a lot to compute about the scene – especially the way the man smiled at seeing Johnny, warm and open and very much in love. Something Bobby hadn’t quite ever expected to see.

Then Daken moved his gaze from Johnny to him, and cocked his head in greeting. “Robert. Welcome to our humble _nid d’amour_.”

“It’s Bobby,” Bobby said, because he had to say something. Then, for the same reason, he held out the bottle. “I brought wine.”

“I see that.” Daken reached them, brushed a hand against Johnny’s jaw with a smile, and took the gift. “Thank you, Bobby. Very thoughtful of you.”

“I hope it will go well with the meal,” Bobby said, still on autopilot – fervently hoping Jean had chosen the right one. Johnny squeezed his hand.

Daken unwrapped the bottle and hummed in what seemed like appreciation as he read the label. “It will go nicely indeed, Bobby. Thank you.” He moved to place it on the counter. “Dearest, would you look for the corkscrew? I need to get changed.”

“You look amazing already,” Johnny said with a besotted smile. Daken scoffed, but with clear fondness on his features, removed the apron, and disappeared down another corridor.

Johnny squeezed Bobby’s hand, then released it to go in search of the corkscrew. He opened a few drawers before he found it; then he looked up at Bobby. “What do you think?” he asked, a bit hesitantly.

“Well, I… didn’t expect that,” Bobby answered truthfully. “I had no idea you were dating Daken.”

“We’re very careful,” Johnny said somberly, with a nod. “He’s still on the way to rehabilitation, so it would be bad publicity for the Fantastic Four… and he fears that some of his old enemies would take it on me. As if I couldn’t defend myself!” He smiled, sort of, but it was clear that he wasn’t happy with the situation. It must hurt, to not be able to show the world his love.

“And that’s why you have this house? To be able to be together in peace?”

Johnny nodded. “We come here as often as we can, but it isn’t as often as we’d like.” He grimaced a little, then waved the corkscrew with a grim resolution on his face. “But we’re here now, and that’s what matters! And you’re here too,” he added softly.

“Yeah.” Bobby nodded. “Let’s make the most of it, okay?” He ached so desperately. He wanted to wipe that sad, lost look off of Johnny’s face. He wanted to make him happy. He reached Johnny and clasped his arm, his fingers lingering on the man’s warm skin – so warm. “No bad thoughts tonight.”

“No bad thoughts,” Johnny repeated, placing a hand on Bobby’s, a grateful light in his eyes.

“Only joy.” Daken had reappeared in the doorway, and he mouthed ‘ _thank you_ ’ at Bobby before Johnny turned to face him with a smile. “I’m so glad I got to see you tonight, dearest.” He reached them, and wrapped an arm around Johnny’s waist, who melted into the touch, his fingers squeezing Bobby’s. Daken touched Bobby too, a fleeting brush against his arm. He had soft, warm skin too. “And you, Bobby. I look forward to properly meet you.”

“Me too.” He really did. So far, he was intrigued. There was an enamored look on Daken’s face as he gazed at Johnny, a quiet interest when he considered Bobby. Bobby didn’t know much about him, but it was clear that Johnny loved him, and both Laura and Gabby had painted a different picture of him from the amoral criminal Logan used to describe. He wanted to properly meet Daken, and he’d see where that would bring him. Keep an open mind, Jean had told him.

They sat at the table. Daken had cooked; apparently he loved to do so, and when the couple retreated to the house, he loved to pamper Johnny with lovingly prepared exotic dishes. Tonight he’d made a simple roastbeef, but the name was the only simple thing about it; there were spices and a delicious gravy and the meat melted on Bobby’s tongue. Daken ate in small bites, careful not to stain his clothes – a simple jeans and shirt, but clearly designer. Bobby joked that he felt underdressed.

Johnny cackled as Daken shot Bobby a pleased smirk. “Trust me, it always happens with him.”

Johnny was getting livelier, the earlier mood disappeared as the dinner continued. They told Bobby how they’d met, how they’d realized – after much back and forth – how much they meant to each other. They often touched each other’s hands as they talked, but Johnny took care to caress Bobby’s knuckles too, and Daken always included him in the conversation, asking about the school and what he did and his job as a teacher.

All in all, it was a pleasant evening, and Bobby thought he liked Daken. He was friendly and charming and possessed a dry humor that clashed well with Bobby.

After the meal they moved to a sofa. Daken served them coffee, which he prepared with a strange Italian contraption called _moka – “I still have no idea how to use that thing_ ,” Johnny laughed – and then sat down, wrapping an arm around Johnny, who turned to face Bobby. They studied him for a moment – Bobby squirmed a little under Johnny’s heated gaze and Daken’s attention – and then Daken sighed.

“Well,” he said, putting down his cup with a clink. “I suppose you have questions.” He cocked his head; Johnny nodded, regarding Bobby with some trepidation.

That was an understatement. Bobby felt… good, there with them; at ease. It was strange, he wouldn’t have expected it, not so soon, but he liked how they worked out together, how they talked.

And yet, it seemed too good to be true. He had eyes, too.

So he asked, simply: “Why?”

Daken hummed. “Johnny likes you very much,” he said, caressing Johnny’s arm. “And I find you quite sufferable too.” He cocked an eyebrow. “But that wasn’t what you asked.”

“It wasn’t,” Bobby agreed. He played a bit with his cup, then drained the rest of the coffee. “You seem… great, together. I just don’t get why you’d want a third person. If you don’t mind me asking,” he added, cradling the cup in his lap.

“Not at all. It’s in your right; you’re affected by this, after all.” As Daken talked, Johnny reached up to squeeze his hand, in a gesture that seemed to convey encouragement. “I’m afraid it’s my fault.”

“No faults,” Johnny murmured. “It’s all right.”

“Thank you, dearest.” Daken met Bobby’s curious gaze – his _fault_? – with a calm serenity that, before, Bobby wouldn’t have ever conflated with him. “I can’t give Johnny everything he needs,” Daken said, very matter-of-factly, and then, as Bobby opened his mouth to ask what did he mean, he added: “Sexually.”

Bobby couldn’t help it; he stared, and he was sure there was disbelief all over his face. Daken? The same man who flirted with everything that breathed and danced with a purpose that had left Bobby hot and bothered, couldn’t ‘ _give Johnny everything he needed, sexually_ ’? He shouldn’t make assumptions, he knew that, but he was more than a little confused.

Daken sighed. “Say what you’re thinking.”

Bobby cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, it’s just – um – you’re very -” How could he put it? “Aggressively sexual?” He winced.

Daken nodded. “Provocative, yes. It’s performative, Bobby.” Johnny squeezed Daken’s hand and reclined his head to give him a gaze full of love and understanding. Daken smiled down at him, softly, then looked back at Bobby. “I won’t regale you with the tales of my complicated relationship with sex, not tonight. It’s not a fit subject for the evening. Some day, perhaps, if you’ll have us.” Bobby nodded – sensing a troubling past in Daken’s grimace. “Suffice it to say that more recently, thanks to Johnny,” here Daken glanced down at the man again, a truly grateful smile on his face, “I’ve embraced the fact that I don’t really care for it.”

“For sex,” Bobby clarified.

“Exactly.” Daken nodded. “I’m – there’s a word for it – asexual. Johnny pointed it out to me.” His voice lowered to a timbre that spoke of wonder, even now, when some time must have passed already.

Bobby could relate. He, too, had recently faced a revelation about himself, after all.

“So are you sex-indifferent, or -” he hesitated, “Sex-averse?”

Daken cocked his head – a pleased, surprised, small smile on his face. Johnny beamed. “You know what I’m talking about,” Daken said.

“After I came out, I made a point of learning all there was to learn about the queer community,” Bobby said, rubbing at his neck.

“I told you,” Johnny said softly, sipping at this coffee to hide a smile, “He’s the one.”

“I see that,” Daken agreed, squeezing his hand. “To answer your question, Bobby, I’m sex-indifferent. I don’t mind being there – I enjoy seeing Johnny have a good time – but I’d much rather do other things.” Johnny squeezed Daken’s hand, his smile soft.

“He’s a big softie,” he murmured, “He likes to cuddle a lot. I love cuddles too,” he added, biting his lower lip, a flush spreading to his face.

“But you have other needs too, and that’s all right,” Daken tilted his head to brush his lips against Johnny’s hair. They were lovely, so thoroughly focused on each other’s well-being. Bobby wanted a part in that.

And they wanted him to. They didn’t want a mindless fuck – Johnny wasn’t like that. They wanted a relationship, all three of them; they trusted Bobby with this… with their secret relationship, with information about their life.

“What do you think?” Johnny asked.

He was eyeing Bobby – hesitant, unsure – but judging from the sharp way Daken was regarding Bobby, the man, at least, already knew Bobby’s answer.

“I’d like to try,” Bobby said. “I like you both. Very much.”

Johnny grinned. “That’s fantastic! Isn’t it, love?” He shifted a bit and raised his head to look at Daken, who nodded, his hand slowly brushing against Johnny’s arm – his eyes never leaving Bobby.

“I like you too, Bobby. You’re fun.” He winked. “And you make Johnny happy.”

“You both make me happy,” Johnny interjected. He tilted his head more, brushed his lips against Daken’s jaw.

Then he turned towards Bobby.

“Come here?” he murmured.

Bobby set the cup down and shifted closer, took the cup from Johnny’s hands too, put it on the table. They were so close, all three of them; a bundle of warmth Bobby wanted to lose himself in. Johnny’s breath was a little erratic, just as his – but Daken looked calmly on, a hand rubbing Johnny’s arm in circles as he shifted more behind Johnny and then threw his arm across Johnny’s stomach. With the other, he beckoned Bobby closer, brushing his fingertips against Bobby’s skin like a promise.

Bobby put a hand on the back of the couch to steady himself and dived in for the kiss Johnny was waiting for. Johnny made a pleased, throaty sound, and pulled Bobby closer, cupping the nape of his neck. It was a hungry, heated kiss; their teeth clattered as they tried to find a position that could factor all three of them. Daken was holding Johnny firmly – Bobby brushed a hand against his arm as he caressed Johnny’s side – and Johnny pulled his legs up and under him so that there was more freedom of movement. It was exhilarating; Bobby felt drunk with joy and pleasure, delighted by Johnny’s responsiveness and clear joy, by Daken’s presence too. He felt the man’s hand skirt his bicep gently, a light caress that turned a bit demanding when he reached Bobby’s shoulder and then pressed Bobby against Johnny, guiding him to better ways to please his partner -

Their partner?

Bobby broke the kiss; Johnny whined at the absence, face flushed. Daken was pressed against Johnny, his gaze adoring, and he was placing soft kisses all over Johnny’s nape. Their eyes met and Bobby knew, without a doubt, that Daken held no qualms about this. He urged Bobby closer, again, and Bobby complied with enthusiasm, tilting his head to lick Johnny’s throat – Johnny gasped and shuddered, his fingers tightening around Bobby’s shoulder. Bobby did it again and then grasped Daken’s arm that encircled Johnny’s waist, caressing him too. That was okay, right? That counted as cuddles? He moved back a bit to meet the man’s gaze again. “Was that okay?” he asked.

Daken nodded. “You can touch me,” he murmured. He brushed his lips against Johnny’s jaw, who was squirming in Daken’s lap, his hand a vise around Bobby’s shoulder – Johnny’s gaze was feverish, full of lust. It made Bobby’s blood sing. “All right, dearest?” Daken asked.

“Uh-huh.” Johnny pawed at Daken’s arm. “Fuck, kiss me again, please, _please_ -”

“And whose kiss do you want?” Daken asked, low and teasing – a glint in his eyes as he beckoned Bobby closer.

Johnny’s hips bucked. “Both,” he whined, “Both, fuck, _fuck -_ ” He was visibly hard, a bulge tenting his jeans, and Bobby found he was too – his throat dry. Daken held Johnny with an iron grip, and Bobby could imagine it – see it as if it was in front of him, his face heating up as images filled his mind. They must do it like this. Daken holding Johnny from behind as Johnny brought himself to completion, and then laying close, afterwards – Johnny utterly spent, Daken lightly caressing him. Bobby could picture it, and he wanted to see it. He wanted to _feel_ it.

He bent to kiss Johnny, slow and dirty – their tongues sliding together sensuously. Johnny was moaning lowly, his head angled to allow Daken more access to his neck, and Bobby buried a hand in Daken’s soft hair to massage his scalp – he broke the kiss to check in, saw Daken nod in-between kisses, and dived back again, Johnny squeezing hard his arm. He coaxed Johnny’s tongue into his mouth and sucked around its tip as he reached down to press the heel of his hand against Johnny’s erection. Johnny yelped, pushing forward, but Daken still held him close, so he couldn’t gain friction as Bobby moved back, letting go of them both. Johnny protested faintly, but then he saw Bobby’s gaze and fell silent, only the occasional pant filling the room as only Daken kept at it, gently rubbing his face against Johnny’s neck, placing kisses on his nape – his hand gently running over Johnny’s stomach, Johnny’s fingers laced with his. With the other hand Daken was searching for Bobby, but Bobby was sat back on his heels, drinking in the sight. They were beautiful. Fuck, they were _beautiful_.

Eventually Daken looked up. He saw Bobby and _knew_ what he wanted, what he felt. He nodded, his hand placed lightly on Johnny’s hip – not possessively, just naturally there. “Tell us, Bobby,” he urged, placing another kiss on Johnny’s neck. Johnny waited with bated breath, his eyes alight with a feverish gleam – drinking in Bobby’s sight just as much as Bobby had done with them.

“I want to see you,” Bobby choked out. He felt overcome with desire, with the sheer need. They were perfect and he wanted to bask in their presence, to please Johnny, to watch Daken bask in Johnny’s happiness. “I want to -” he broke off, unable to properly vocalize the intensity of what he was feeling.

But they knew.

Daken murmured something in Johnny’s ear, too low to catch, and Johnny shivered. “You don’t mind?” he asked earnestly, squeezing Daken’s hand.

“Not at all.” Daken looked back at Bobby. “We can move to the bedroom. You do what you want… and I’ll stay, if you’re fine with that.”

“Fuck, I _want_ you on that bed with us,” Bobby panted. As Daken started, taken aback, his mouth already open to remind him, Bobby shook his head. “Nothing sexual, I know. I won’t touch you like that. But you obviously like to hold him close and I -” He took a breath. “That’s lovely. I want to see that. I want to be there.”

Johnny’s smile was a broad, happy thing. Daken was more subdued, blinking fast as if touched and desperately trying not to show it. In the end, he settled for a smile. “Let’s go, then.”

The trip to their bedroom took long. They kept stopping and kissing – Johnny, giddy and drunk with happiness and anticipation, had linked an arm around each of them, and kept tilting his head towards Daken or Bobby, who both complied happily, leaning down to kiss him. Once, their noses met over Johnny’s lips, and Daken brushed a peck at the angle of Bobby’s mouth, too fast to allow Bobby to properly meet the kiss. That was enough to turn Johnny into a shivering mess, and they reached the door without any other incident.

At the center of the room was a queen-size bed littered with pillows, and Johnny grabbed their hands, pulling them forward with him. They followed, exchanging a glance – Daken’s gaze was soft and grateful and happy. He chuckled and pulled at Johnny’s hand in an attempt to reel him in. “Calm down, dearest. We’re here.”

“I’m just so happy.” Johnny turned on his heels to face them – face open, and honest, so overwhelmingly dizzy it was contagious. “My men,” he smiled.

“Yours,” Daken whispered reverently. He brought Johnny’s hand to his mouth, and kissed it. Bobby stepped up, cupped Johnny’s cheek.

“Yours,” he repeated, and bent to kiss Johnny. Johnny hummed low, let go of Bobby’s hand to pull him closer by his shoulder. Bobby brushed his hand down Johnny’s neck to cup his nape; with the other, he searched blindly for Daken until he met his arm and urged him to join them. He knew when Daken did because Johnny started shaking, a low moan in his throat, moving back and forth – unsure of where to press himself. They helped him choose by moving as one and enveloping him in a warm, tight embrace. Bobby felt everything tenfold – the sweat on Johnny’s skin, the texture of strands of Daken’s hair as the man lay his ministrations on the nape of Johnny’s neck; Daken’s arm, crawling between them to hold Johnny, as he ran his other hand over Bobby’s shoulder.

And Johnny’s cock, rubbing deliciously against Bobby’s. Bobby licked the roof of Johnny’s mouth and broke the kiss, sucked at Johnny’s lower lip. Johnny whined in protest, looking at him from beneath his eyelashes. He was flushed and flustered and so beautiful, his forehead glistening. He tried to urge him closer again, but Bobby shook his head.

“I want to suck you off,” he panted. Johnny shuddered, his mouth half-open. “May I?”

“Fuck, yes, _yes_ ,” Johnny whined, grasping at Daken’s hand, his knuckles white. He let go of Bobby’s shoulder to unbutton his jeans; as Bobby sank to his knees, Daken left the two of them to rummage in a drawer. He came back with a condom, which he handed to Bobby, and then took again his place behind Johnny and caught Johnny’s hand as Johnny was still fumbling with the zipper, his hand shaking. Daken helped Johnny lower it and then trapped Johnny’s hand against his stomach – then did the same with the other. Both hands out of the way, Johnny was now truly unable to move, and Daken looked down at Bobby from behind Johnny, as if giving him the go ahead. Johnny didn’t seem to mind, sighing and melting back against Daken, his hips canted forward.

The sight made Bobby’s jeans even tighter, but he cared nothing for himself in this moment. He pulled Johnny’s jeans down to his ankles and then lowered Johnny’s briefs just enough to free his weeping erection. Johnny hissed as the cool air touched his sensitive skin, his cock bobbing; Bobby unrolled the condom down Johnny’s length – Johnny writhed in Daken’s arms – and then, feeling playful, leaned closer and breathed a faint frosty mist over it before engulfing Johnny with the warmth of his mouth. Johnny cried out a wrecked moan and thrust jerkily, but Bobby grabbed his hips to still him and moved back, licking the underside of Johnny’s cock as he did so. “Patience,” he chided. Johnny shivered.

“You’re doing great, Johnny,” Daken murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You’re so beautiful. You both are.” Johnny flushed with pleasure, and Bobby, too, felt insanely pleased at the compliment. He licked the head of Johnny’s cock, sucking a bit at the tip. Johnny’s knees buckled, but Daken held him close. “I’ve got you, dearest,” he said, nuzzling Johnny’s neck. “Lean against me.”

“ _Daken_ ,” Johnny panted as he did so, dropping all his weight on Daken, and then, lower, almost a growl: “Bobby, _please_ -”

Perhaps he’d teased enough. Bobby wrapped his lips around Johnny’s length once more and focused on the task. He loved this. Honestly, he loved it so much that one should wonder how the hell he hadn’t noticed sooner that there had never been joy in the act, with women. This, this was different – salty and musky and so good. It felt good, to know he was eliciting the sounds Johnny was making; it felt good to feel fingers rake his hair and pull with need, to welcome the increasingly frantic thrusts, to sense the sudden hot surge of Johnny’s come, barely held back by the condom, Johnny’s shout ringing in his ears.

He released Johnny’s cock, looking up at him with a grin. Johnny was half-collapsed against Daken, a look of utter relaxation in his eyes. He was caressing Bobby’s hair – Daken must have freed him while Bobby sucked him off – his other hand squeezing Daken’s hard. “How was it?” Bobby asked.

“Guh,” Johnny gabbled incoherently. Bobby turned his head to kiss Johnny’s palm – felt another hand join it on the same side, brushing Bobby’s sweaty hair away from his face.

“You were beautiful,” Daken praised them. Bobby looked up: Daken was holding Johnny tightly, his gaze full of love. “Stand up now, that must be uncomfortable.” Swiftly, he retrieved the condom from Johnny and put him in a waste bin that was conveniently close to them.

“Oh, but it was worth it.” Bobby smirked. He got up and winced as the tight fabric of his jeans chafed his sensitive cock. Daken arched an eyebrow and Bobby looked down: there was a wet patch on the front.

Immediately, Johnny pawed at Bobby’s bulge – no doubt wanting to return the favor – but he was still a bit weak, and he whined, letting his hand fall. Bobby whined too, the pressure he’d felt for a moment driving him wild. He’d let Johnny recover and then the man could get at it. Or perhaps Bobby should take care of it immediately; he was dying with frustration and need.

He’d just managed to unbutton his jeans when Johnny spoke up.

“Help me to the bed,” he panted – raw need in his voice. Bobby heard his own breath hitch. “I want – I want -”

“Yes, dearest?” Daken cooed him softly – no doubt in his gaze as to what Johnny wanted. He considered Bobby, asking him silently if Bobby felt up to it.

Fuck, he did. He was blistering with nervous energy and _want_.

“I want Bobby inside me,” Johnny rasped, trying to wriggle out of his shoes. Bobby felt hot and cold. He hadn’t thought – he hadn’t dared to _imagine –_ they’d do this so soon. But oh, how did he want it. “I want him to fuck me.” Fuck, that wrecked voice did _things_ to Bobby. “And I, I want you to hold me, th-th-throughout. Can you, can you do that?”

“Of course,” Daken said softly. “Of course I can. If Bobby agrees.”

Johnny’s feverish gaze zeroed in on Bobby. “What do you think?” he asked eagerly. “Do you – do you want -?”

Bobby kissed him and wrapped an arm around him, taking some of his weight off of Daken. His kiss was slow and languid, full of promise, and Johnny melted into it, grasped at Bobby’s arm – Daken was caressing Bobby too, Bobby’s hair, his shoulder.

Bobby broke the kiss. “Yes,” he breathed against Johnny’s lips.

“Yeah?” Johnny licked his lips. “Want to take off our clothes. Want to feel you. Want to feel all of you. Both of you.”

“Of course, dearest.” Daken brushed a kiss against Johnny’s jaw. “Help me out, Bobby?”

Together, they led Johnny to the bed. Johnny let himself fall on it, grinning widely, humming happily – he raised his hips to let Bobby help him out of jeans and briefs. Daken knelt next to Johnny and tugged at the man’s t-shirt with a fond smile, and Johnny held up his arms so that Daken could help him wiggle out of it. He lay like a starfish, naked and flushed and glorious, his hair a mess, a sheen of sweat on his skin, and Bobby felt his blood run hot, so hot in his veins. It was such a sight. He was so beautiful, lying there, heavy-lidded and eager, a hand closed tightly around Daken’s as the man caressed his hair, his face, bent to chastely kiss his lips. They both were so beautiful.

“Bobby?” Johnny called out, low and needy. Daken looked up at Bobby, beckoned him closer.

Right. He’d been so lost, gazing at them, that he’d stood still for a moment, his own need forgotten. Bobby hastily toed out of his shoes. “Coming,” he panted.

“You better.” Johnny writhed a little to half-sit, propping himself up on an arm, and eyed Bobby hungrily as Bobby quickly rid himself of his clothes and fished a condom out of his jeans, incredibly glad he’d brought one with him.

Finally, blessedly naked, his clothes a bundle on the floor, Bobby joined them on the bed and carefully put on the condom, Johnny’s frantic ‘ _hurry, hurry,_ ’ music to his ears. When he was done, Johnny pulled him against himself and clashed his mouth on him, a hand roaming Bobby’s chest. He was using just that one, as the other was clasping Daken’s, but Bobby didn’t mind, and he lost himself into the kiss.

It was everything. Johnny was everything, his skin so hot, their bodies sliding together, slick with sweat. There were fingers slowly raking Bobby’s hair too, and Bobby knew they weren’t Johnny’s. He leant into the touch, breaking the kiss for a moment, and looked up – Johnny whined with need, thrusting up against him, then looked sharply up as well: Daken had extricated himself from Johnny’s grip, and he was standing up.

“Give me a moment,” Daken said softly, “I’ll be right back. Keep going.”

Johnny nodded – his gaze sad, though understanding – and dived back into Bobby’s mouth, now free to explore Bobby’s body with both hands.

They rolled on the bed, heated and ready, as they waited for Daken to return. It was good, to kiss like this. Slow and hungry and sensual, their legs sliding against each other’s, trying to find friction. Johnny reached down to cup Bobby’s balls, squeezed them gently as he bit Bobby’s lower lip. Bobby moaned, arching into the touch.

“Want you inside me,” Johnny panted into Bobby’s mouth, dragging his thumb up Bobby’s cock. Bobby whimpered, jerked his hips. “Can’t wait to feel you, Bobby. I want you to split me in two.” He thumbed Bobby’s slit through the latex.

“ _Yes_ ,” Bobby groaned, thrusting into Johnny’s hand. “Gonna fuck you so hard.”

Johnny answered by licking Bobby’s throat, his fingers tight and hot around Bobby’s throbbing cock. Bobby cried out; he was so close. If Daken didn’t come soon, he’d spend himself like this – lost in Johnny’s touch.

“Look at you.” There was a new weight on the bed and a cool hand on Bobby’s shoulder. “So eager. So beautiful.”

They broke apart, a huge delighted grin on Johnny’s face, and both looked to the side, where Daken knelt. He’d stripped down, but he’d also donned – or perhaps simply retained it – a pair of boxers. Beside him lay a bottle of lube.

Johnny half-sat up and Bobby moved back, giving him space. “You’re here,” Johnny said softly.

“Of course.” Daken bent to kiss him – Johnny pawed at his arm – and then turned to properly kiss Bobby for the first time.

His lips were dry and cool and soft as he brushed them against Bobby’s; it was a different kind of kiss, but it was good too. It moved to Bobby’s jaw, and Bobby leant into it with a sigh. Beneath them, Johnny breathed: “Oh, _fuck._ ”

Daken moved back. “I brought lube.”

“I see that,” Bobby echoed their conversation before dinner. “Very thoughtful of you.”

Daken smirked, recognizing the words. Then he looked down at Johnny, tenderness in his gaze. He cupped Johnny’s face. “How do you want this, dearest?”

“Want to see Bobby,” Johnny murmured, squinting his eyes in clear pleasure at the caress. “Want you behind me?” he added, hesitantly.

“Of course.” Daken brushed Johnny’s sticky hair away from his face, then looked back at Bobby. “Is that all right with you?”

Bobby nodded, his throat suddenly dry. This was happening. Fuck, it was happening.

He watched, his heart hammering in his ears, as Daken moved to the headboard, gathered a few pillows there, and sat, leaning against them. He bent his legs and then spread them – enough for a person to lay there, a suspicion confirmed when he patted on the mattress between his legs, looking at Johnny. “Come here.”

Johnny went.

Bobby watched – fuck, he couldn’t believe this was really happening – as Johnny happily settled himself on his back between Daken’s thighs, his head rested upon Daken’s stomach; as Johnny grabbed Daken’s calf and pushed himself a bit higher still, with Daken gently caressing his face; as Johnny looked at Bobby, heat in his gaze, his cock at half-mast, so soon after he’d already come.

Daken grabbed a pillow. “Up,” he ordered, and Johnny raised his hips obediently. Daken pushed the pillow towards Bobby. “Put it under him,” he said.

That was so hot, being ordered around like this. Fuck, it was like Daken was participating too – just not overtly. No doubt he did this to be there, at least a little. To make Johnny feel as if they were together too.

Bobby did as told, bending to press a kiss to Johnny’s thigh. Johnny shivered and writhed in Daken’s lap.

Daken was still gently caressing him, but now he wrapped both arms around Johnny, a hand pressed against Johnny’s chest, the other a bit below it, and placed a kiss at the top of Johnny’s head. “Why don’t you be a good boy and open up for Bobby, dearest?” he murmured.

 _Fuck_. Bobby bit his tongue, his fingers tight around the bottle of lube – if he’d been turned on before, now he thought he’d explode. Johnny moaned lowly and spread his legs wide, exposing himself to Bobby’s eager gaze.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he choked out.

“You are,” Daken agreed. “You both are.”

Johnny whined and canted his hips, desperate for Bobby’s touch.

“Com’here,” he panted, “Need you in me.”

And Bobby went.

He coated his fingers with lube and scuttled closer, settling between Johnny’s thighs. Setting the other hand on the mattress to prop himself up – Daken spread his legs wider, to give him some space – Bobby bent low to capture Johnny’s mouth in a kiss, his slick hand traveling lower. He skirted Johnny’s rim, his tongue moving just as slowly inside Johnny’s mouth. Fuck, he wanted to draw this out now. His cock was pulsing in protest, but the anticipation would only make everything sweeter.

Johnny didn’t seem to agree, his fingers dug deeply into Bobby’s shoulder – moving his hips in an attempt to get something inside him. Bobby broke the kiss; Johnny’s eyes were dark and unfocused, his cheeks beautifully red.

“C’mon,” he whined, “ _C’mon_ -”

“Patience, dearest,” came Daken’s quiet voice from above them. “Bobby wants to do this right. You’re being so good for him, he wants to reward you.”

“Wanna fuck,” Johnny whimpered, writhing, but Daken held him tightly.

“I know,” he cooed. “Shh, shh. I know, dearest. I know you can take this. I know you can wait. Bobby’s waiting too, you see? You see how much he wants you?” Johnny’s heavy-lidded gaze landed between Bobby’s thighs and he licked his lips.

Bobby was painfully hard. He’d have loved nothing more than to bury himself inside Johnny, but Johnny was exquisite like this. So utterly reliant on the both of them, soft and pliant, needy and loud. It was obvious Johnny referred to Daken in the bedroom, in an attempt to feel him close without Daken actually pleasuring him.

“Let me show you a good time,” Bobby choked out. “Wanna show you what I learned.” He massaged Johnny’s balls, his thumb running circles over Johnny’s perineum. Johnny cursed, a hand holding Daken’s calf like a vise – his knuckles white, Daken’s skin red. Daken didn’t emit a sound of protest, just kept holding Johnny, his fingers barely tracing patterns against Johnny’s chest.

“Fuck,” Johnny panted, his eyes squinted shut, flexing his fingers against Bobby’s shoulder. “Okay, okay -”

“Good boy,” Bobby praised him, on a hunch; Daken was saying, too: “Good, you’re so good,” and Johnny cried out, his cock fully erect now. “So good for us,” Bobby added, diving in for another kiss. Johnny moaned loudly into his mouth and kissed him desperately, arching up against him as much as he could. Bobby kept massaging Johnny’s balls and the cleft between his buttocks until he thought Johnny would weep from the over-stimulation – his moans frantic, his movements jerky, his breath erratic.

Then he broke the kiss, shushed Johnny’s protest softly. “Yes, I know, I know. You’ve been so good, Johnny, so good. So patient.” He poured a generous amount of lube over his fingers. “I’m going to prepare you now, okay?”

Johnny nodded, dazed. “Please,” he panted, “Please – _Daken_ –”

“I’m here, dearest.” Daken brushed his lips against Johnny’s hair. “Let him take his time. Let him -”

“Two fin _gers_ ,” Johnny’s voice broke. He sounded like he was truly begging. Daken broke off and loosened his hold, tilted his head to search Johnny’s gaze, but Johnny’s eyes were closed.

“Dearest?” Daken prompted. Johnny just shivered.

“Hey, are you all right?” Bobby asked, putting things on hold. “Is this too much?”

Johnny shook his head vehemently. Daken sighed. “Vocalize, dearest.”

“It’s all right,” Johnny whimpered. “Feels good. Amazing. But hurry it up a bit, please?”

“But of course,” Daken said softly, tightening his embrace again. He looked at Bobby, a request in his eyes, and Bobby nodded. “You’ve been so good, Johnny. I’m so proud of you.”

“So patient,” Bobby agreed, as he slowly worked two fingers in. Johnny cried out. “You’re such a good boy, Johnny.” Bobby pulled his fingers out, pushed them back in. He worked out a rhythm, basing off on Johnny’s responses – his moans, the jerky movements of his hips. “You’re our good boy, aren’t you?” He twisted his fingers, searching for Johnny’s prostate.

“ _Yes_ ,” Johnny groaned, “Yes, yes, _there_ -”

“So eager.” Bobby brushed his fingertips against the small bundle of nerves. Johnny arched, spreading his legs impossibly wide, and the sight drove Bobby wild. He _needed_ to fuck Johnny now. “Do you think you deserve to come?” he panted, his voice rough and low. He was straining.

“Oh, he does,” Daken murmured. Johnny whimpered at the words, his hips moving in sharp jerks as he fucked himself on Bobby’s fingers. “He’s been so patient.” Daken bent to press a kiss atop Johnny’s head, his gaze lowered. “With me, too.”

Johnny opened his eyes wide, clearly alarmed and saddened. “Wait, _no_ -” he choked out, tilting his head backwards to see Daken, reassure him. Daken kissed his forehead and shushed him softly.

“It’s all right, dearest. Focus on this, yes? Feels good?”

Johnny moaned in agreement, but he let go of Bobby to catch Daken’s hand. With the other he was still grasping wildly at Daken’s calf. “Love you,” he said desperately, “I love you so _much_ -”

Daken hummed. “I know, dearest.”

Bobby felt his chest ache. He surged forward, and captured Daken’s lips with a kiss, taking care to keep it close-mouthed. But the man had to see there were three of them here. That he was still welcome. That the self-deprecating second thoughts he was having were silly. He was loved. He wasn’t being pushed to the side.

Daken emitted a surprised sound and made to move away, but then he pushed forward, kissing him back, bruising and just as needy. Still thrusting into Johnny with his fingers, Bobby shifted his weight onto his knees and raised the other hand to cup Daken’s face, caress his jaw.

“Beautiful,” Johnny panted beneath them. “God, I love you. So _beautiful_.”

Daken broke the kiss. “ _Yours_ ,” he said vehemently, holding Johnny tightly. Johnny agreed hotly, his hips still gyrating.

“Yours, I love you, love you so much -”

“I love you too, dearest,” Daken murmured, holding Bobby’s gaze. There was a certain light in his eyes – something like wonder. He leant into Bobby’s hand, seemingly unable to say anything.

There was no need to. Bobby pecked his nose. “You’re great,” he told him. “The most considerate man Johnny could have.”

“You are,” Johnny agreed, panting – still fucking himself on Bobby’s fingers.

“And you, too.” Daken was including Bobby in Bobby’s statement – it was clear in his tone. There was still amazement in his eyes, and love, so much love.

Then he blinked and he was in character again, hard and demanding, his arm tighter still around Johnny. “Bobby’s great, too, isn’t he, dearest?”

“ _Fantastic_ ,” Johnny groaned. Daken smirked.

“Do you want him to fuck you?”

“God, _yes._ ” Johnny shut his eyes, let go of Daken’s reddened calf, and searched blindly for Bobby – his fingers flexing as if he wanted to grab him. Bobby shifted back and Johnny caught his arm, squeezing as hard as he was squeezing Daken’s hand. “Please – please, God, I can’t -” he panted, thrusting forwards, trying to push Bobby’s fingers deeper inside him.

Daken hummed. “Go on, then,” he nodded at Bobby. “Fuck him.”

Bobby’s throat was, suddenly, dry again, his cock bobbing in anticipation. Trying to keep his cool – hah! - he stilled his fingers and silenced Johnny’s subsequent protests with a heated kiss. Johnny responded as if he was drowning, and when Bobby leaned back his eyes were glazed over, his mouth half-open, lips glistening with their saliva – he’d stilled his hips, knowing it was finally time.

“You heard him”, Bobby rasped. He retreated his fingers from Johnny – he’d put so much lube in there that some dripped out of Johnny and over the sheets – and caught the bottle of lube again. “I’m gonna fuck you now.”

Johnny moaned loudly, tried to settle his hips in a more comfortable manner. The pillow they’d put under his hips looked drenched with sweat.

“Yeah, like that,” Bobby cooed. “Why don’t you keep stretching yourself while I get ready for you?”

Johnny whimpered, didn’t let Bobby tell him twice. He let go of Bobby’s arm and buried three fingers into himself, his head lolled back against Daken’s chest. Daken kissed his head. “You’re so good,” he murmured, “So so good.” Johnny groaned, lost in the sensation as he pleasured himself, his fingers twisting and scissoring inside him.

That sight would have sufficed to make Bobby come – he’d fantasized about this earlier, and it was just as hot as he’d imagined – but he wasn’t going to be idle. He poured a generous quantity of lube over his waiting cock – if he wrapped his fingers around it he was sure to come without taking Johnny – and scuttled closer. “I’m ready.”

“Careful,” Daken said softly. “It’s been a while.”

Bobby nodded. “I’ll fuck him nice and slow.” He didn’t think he’d resist much anyway.

“Don’t you dare,” Johnny grumbled, his fingers buried knuckles deep inside him. “Been using toys.”

Daken chuckled. “Bobby’s bigger, dearest.”

Johnny let out a strangled moan and took out his fingers, spread his legs wider – his thighs were shaking with the exertion. “Get in here, fuck.”

Bobby, feeling flushed to the roots of his hair – both by need and by absurd pleasure at that piece of information – aligned himself with Johnny’s entrance and grasped Johnny’s hips. The tip of his cock brushed against Johnny’s cleft and Bobby saw stars, but he managed to control himself. Johnny’s hand was skirting by his own cock, his breath ragged, but Daken clicked his tongue sharply.

“Don’t cheat, dearest.”

Without a sound of protest, Johnny went to grasp at Bobby’s arm again. “ _Please_ ,” he whimpered, his voice small, and that undid Bobby.

He entered Johnny carefully – as slowly and carefully as he could, even though he was dying with need. Johnny was hot and tight and so slick with lube that Bobby’s cock slid into him easily. Johnny was holding his breath, his eyes tightly shut, his throat exposed and shining with sweat, every muscle taut – his hands vises around Daken’s hand, Bobby’s arm. Daken was softly muttering endearments to the both of them, and Bobby felt wanted and happy, at home.

He stilled when he was balls deep into Johnny. “You good?” His voice, he realized, was shaking.

“Uh-huh,” Johnny exhaled, relaxing a little – sliding down the length of Daken’s body until his head rested against Daken’s stomach. His hips went up and Bobby’s cock shifted inside him. Bobby moaned at the burst of sensations, but Johnny was far more vocal: “Fuck,” he panted, wide-eyed, then: “ _Ohhh_ , fuck, oh, _oh_ –”

“Feels good?” Daken murmured, leaning back a bit to accommodate Johnny’s new position. His hand was moving lightly over Johnny’s chest.

“Feel so full,” Johnny whispered almost reverently. He wriggled his hips a little and both he and Bobby hissed at the overstimulation. “… _F_ _ff_ _u_ _uu_ _ck_.”

“Bobby? You okay?” Daken asked.

Bobby was covered with sweat and he was inside Johnny’s tight hole and he was shaking with the need to move and this was so hot, it was so good, it felt so _perfect_ to be here, now, with them. “Yeah,” he panted.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Daken asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

It sounded like both a permission and a blessing and Bobby lost it. He moved – finally, blessedly, Johnny’s tight ring of muscle flexing around him. He pulled back and pushed in – slow, measured thrusts, as he’d promised. It took all his self control but it was worth it, every slight movement dragged to the point of being almost unbearable, every nerve of his cock singing with pleasure. Johnny’s head was lolled to the side, his mouth open in a low long moan that just couldn’t seem to stop. He’d adopted the same rhythm, their hips moving in tandem, and he wrapped his legs around Bobby, his heels lazily moving up and down Bobby’s calves. He was tightly holding Daken’s hand, his knuckles white; with the other, he roamed Bobby’s chest, his stomach, the stretch of skin just above Bobby’s cock, above their joined bodies. Bobby’s knuckles were pressed against Daken’s thighs too, since the man had closed his legs to keep Johnny in place, but there was no sound from him. Bobby raised his head every now and then, and Daken looked calmly on, his eyes full of love and encouragement. He’d stopped holding Johnny so tightly with his arm, and now he was caressing Johnny’s shoulders, neck, and face. When he brushed his fingers against Johnny’s ear, Johnny cried out, arching to take Bobby deeper inside himself.

“So g-g-good,” Johnny panted in amazement, eyeing Bobby from beneath his long eyelashes. “Fuck, _Bobby_ -”

“Yeah,” Bobby groaned, slowly gyrating his hips. Johnny was just so deliciously tight, so responsive. “You like it, huh?” The position allowed for even deeper thrusts, and he set to it with enthusiasm, emboldened by Johnny’s broken moans. “You like my cock?”

“Oh _yeah_.” Johnny’s hand skirted by Bobby’s hip to dug his fingers into the small of Bobby’s back. “You feel great, Bobby. So big and hard inside m-m-me -” he arched his neck too, moaning with sheer abandon. He looked so beautiful like this, red and loose and lost in the pleasure they were giving him, Daken’s fingers slowly tracing his throat.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Bobby panted. “You’re both so gorgeous -”

Daken looked up, his eyes twinkling. “Am I, now?”

“Yeah,” Bobby groaned. Johnny was nodding frantically in agreement, unable to speak for the moment, his fingers tight around Daken’s hand. “You’re beautiful. You take such good care of him -”

Daken stopped caressing Johnny – Johnny didn’t seem to mind, his eyes half-closed with pleasure – and reached out for Bobby. His hand ghosted Bobby’s arm, his shoulder, and stopped to cup the nape of Bobby’s neck, slowly massaging the knot at its base. Oh, that was nice. So nice. Daken leaned closer – they were so close they could almost kiss – and then said, clearly:

“Clench your ass, dearest.”

Johnny obeyed immediately and Bobby saw stars, his cock trapped deliciously by Johnny’s tight hole. He cried out, his hips gave a sharp jerk, and Johnny shouted, “Like _that_ ,” with a full-bodied shudder. “God, please, _harder_ -”

“You heard him,” Daken murmured. He was still massaging Bobby’s neck, and there was this light in his eyes – this satisfaction.

Bobby _adored_ that look. That tone.

He picked up the pace, his fingers dug into Johnny’s hips to keep him still – not that he needed to, since Daken’s knees served that purpose already, but it gave him an edge. Johnny was pushing forwards in fast jerky movements to meet Bobby’s thrusts, his eyes squinted shut; his heels were digging painfully into Bobby’s thighs, but that was good too, it was an incentive, it showed how Johnny had completely lost control… and Bobby with him, the both of them lost in the moment, in the pursue of climax, in the beauty of their connected bodies – of Daken’s still presence, like a rock against which they could crash. The air was heavy with their broken moans and the heady scent of sex; their movements were disconnected, slick with sweat, frantic and desperate for release.

Suddenly, Daken’s hand moved from Bobby’s neck to his shoulder and he pushed Bobby forward, almost tripping his balance. Bobby let go of Johnny’s hip to prop himself up on the mattress, found himself pressed against Johnny, and went to lick the man’s throat, the other hand moving to the small of Johnny’s back to keep him tightly against himself as he fucked fast into him.

“Oh God,” Johnny whimpered. “Please – _please_ -”

“You can touch yourself, dearest,” Daken murmured from above.

Johnny’s hand was suddenly between them – not the one he was holding Bobby with, that one was groping Bobby’s buttock now, his fingers dug deeply into Bobby’s flesh – moving around Johnny’s cock as the man jacked off frantically, his hips slamming up against Bobby’s.

“Oh,” he was crying out, his mouth slack, “Oh, oh, _oh -_ ” Every moan, each one of his thrusts were met by Bobby’s own, by Bobby’s groans of pleasure – until, finally, Johnny’s ass clenched and he screamed, a hot spurt of come between them.

He searched Bobby’s mouth then and Bobby complied, a messy kiss as he simply panted into Johnny’s mouth; Johnny’s tongue was sliding against his sensuously as he raised his hand from between them and cupped Bobby’s face, smearing it with come. He was pressing Bobby against him, too, the heel of his palm pushing hard on Bobby’s ass as he arched more, as he kept meeting Bobby’s disjointed thrusts – encouraging Bobby to go faster, deeper, harder.

There were other hands on Bobby too – their touch soft and gentle. For a moment, dazed by his naked need, Bobby thought he was feeling double, but then his brain caught up. Daken’s hands roamed his shoulders with a delicate massage, his mellow voice so close to Bobby’s ear as he needled him with filthy, filthy whispers. He was so good, Daken said, so big and strong, and Johnny would ache from this fuck for days and it was all thanks to Bobby, to his big cock, to his sharp thrusts. He sure knew how to fuck a man, how to make him scream. They looked forward to have him in their bed again –

Bobby’s hips jerked once, twice, and his cock pulsed, and he spent himself with a shout.

He half-collapsed against Johnny – thankfully, he managed to prop himself up a bit as he slid out of Johnny – and he lay there panting, finally clear-headed enough to answer properly to the man’s wet kisses… and to hastily take off his condom.

“Just leave it on the sheets, they’re ruined already,” Daken murmured. Bobby complied, then pulled at the sheets to wipe the come off his face and off Johnny.

One of Daken’s hands moved to Bobby’s head, to gently brush his hair; the other disappeared, likely to caress Johnny too. They lay like this, lazily kissing, for what felt like ages. Johnny was caressing Bobby’s buttocks, his heels slowly brushing against Bobby’s calves, the other hand still cupping Bobby’s cheek; and Bobby extricated his hand from beneath Johnny to caress his hip, his thigh, his side, and as he did so his knuckles brushed against Daken’s thigh too. It was sublime, gentle and soft after the high of their orgasm; they were both still shaking a bit from the force of it, but Daken’s touch, his embrace, was dragging them down, calming them.

At some point Johnny gave one last caress to Bobby’s cheek and then moved his hand elsewhere, probably to touch Daken. As if hit by the same thought, Bobby and Johnny broke the kiss and looked up, Johnny doing so by tilting his head back. He was still flushed, his features completely relaxed, his hair a mess. Bobby imagined he looked much the same.

Daken, instead, was the epitome of composure, though his gaze was soft and pretty much enamored. Johnny, Bobby saw, was squeezing Daken’s free hand weakly.

Daken kept brushing Bobby’s hair when he felt their attention on him. He cocked his head and said, “Everything good?”

“Yeah,” Johnny said softly. “That was -” he trailed off, at a loss for words.

“Great,” Bobby agreed. It had been perfect; Johnny and Daken had been perfect. “Are you okay, Daken?” Although he’d participated willingly, they were sticky with sweat – he must be drenched in it too – and with come, the strong smell of it surely assaulting his delicate nostrils. He might, perhaps, feel uncomfortable now.

The man got, like earlier, that startled, amazed look, as if taken aback by Bobby’s worry. Then he smiled. “I’m fine,” he murmured. “How considerate, Bobby.” His hand moved from Bobby’s hair to his chin, to tilt Bobby’s head up.

“Yep, that’s m-” Bobby shut down as Daken bent to kiss him. It was a little more heated than before, his lips firm and warm against Bobby’s, and then he parted them a bit, allowing his tongue to explore Bobby’s mouth. He was an exceptional kisser, with the added bonus that his brain wasn’t currently mush, so he kissed Bobby thoroughly, slow and good, and when he tilted his head back – too soon, in Bobby’s opinion – Bobby let out a whimper.

He wasn’t alone in that. Johnny was whining that he wanted a kiss too, sitting up and turning in Daken’s arms, his head tilted up, and Daken complied happily, his hand still gently brushing Bobby’s jaw. Bobby had to admit that it was a sight, to watch Daken kiss; to see Johnny so entwined with him, happy and relaxed, a hand still gently brushing Bobby’s back as he cupped Daken’s face with the other.

Daken hooked his fingers around Bobby’s neck and pulled him into their kiss.

It took a moment, to find a balance, but soon they were locked in a gentle embrace, their hands roaming their bodies with no further heat beneath their movements; their mouths, their lips meeting and parting, with no knowledge of who was kissing whom, who was caressing whom. It was divine, it was exquisite, it was like coming home.

Eventually, with no further word needed, they lay down. Someone kicked the dirty sheets off of the bed and they arranged themselves as if they’d always done so, Johnny embracing Daken from behind, his cheek pressed against Daken’s shoulder, and Bobby facing Daken, his arm wrapped around them both, Daken’s hand a warm presence against Bobby’s chest. So cocooned, Daken looked truly content, his eyes half-closed in comfort and serenity.

“Stay the night, please,” he murmured, Johnny muttering a sleepy assent as he settled more comfortably against Daken’s back.

And Bobby stayed that night, and many nights after that.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always welcome. Do tell me your thoughts! ^-^


End file.
